Idols
by TheAngel'sWings
Summary: She had so many idols, and almost all of them had failed her. And yet... she couldn't help but believe that that the next one would be different. But heroes are all the same, aren't they? Piper-centric, reflective oneshot


**Idols**

**A reflection on how heroes are not always the good guys, and the difference between the person and the image. Again, I'm not sure where this one came from...**

_**Summary: She had so many idols, and almost all of them had failed her. And yet... she couldn't help but believe that that the next one would be different. But heroes are all the same, aren't they? Piper-centric.**_

It had taken her a long time to lose her faith in heroes, but when the fall came, it was hard and fast. Although she tried to be rational and logical all the time, she was still a teenager, and still subject to the whims of her emotions; she was unable to think everything through clearly. Hence the continued belief in heroes until the age of fourteen, when she finally threw in the towel and determined to never idolise anyone again – particularly _her_ heroes, who had all let her fall.

There had always been a fascination for heroes on her part, even as a young girl, and so she couldn't quite recall how it had all begun. Perhaps it had been growing up in the orphanage – nothing 'cool' or interesting had ever happened to any of the orphans she'd known (until she ran away at the tender age of 6), and every single one of them there had hoped for a hero to save them all from the terrors of the orphanage. Before, she'd never understood why the elder teenage girls dropped so many cynical or snide comments into the fairytales that they told the younger children. Now, she knew exactly what they meant. The stories of dragons and knights, princes and castles, and the inevitable happy ending were all fiction, tales to make life better. And the prince would never come, because there weren't any princesses for him to rescue – none that she knew of, anyway.

When she thought about it, all her heroes had made her hate them one way or another. Sometimes when she felt like strangling Finn, or going back on her promise about idols, she would sit in her room and think through them – relive everything that she'd liked in them, then everything they'd done to make her dislike them. It was a coping mechanism for her, a way of keeping the grudge going. And that was what she was doing now.

First, there had been I. J. Domiwick, who she'd liked the longest, as far as she was aware. Originally, she'd been drawn to his intelligence, bravery, and the tales of his adventures. Later, she had also liked him for his classic good looks, and had even nursed a girlish crush on him for a while. She'd moved on (a bit) before she met him, but it had been one of the things preying on her mind as they rode towards the Forbidden City.

And so, when she met him in person... Well, she had been proven wrong quickly and humiliatingly. So she gave up on him, and her admiration quickly turned to hatred of his arrogance and willingness to deal with Cyclonia. The next time they met, he'd taken _her_ breather specifically, despite the fact that one of the boys' would have fitted him better. At the bottom of the lake, it had added insult to injury. Out in the open air, it had quickly become the ultimate insult. Yet, despite her hatred, part of her still clung to to admiration for him, and worried about him regardless.

It was a hard line to walk – years of idolising him couldn't all suddenly turn to hatred and indifference, no matter how hard she wished. But she'd moved on, and the next had been just as bad.

Harrier had caught her fantasies next. Again, she'd been drawn to his classical-style good looks (she was a teenager, after all), but also to his old-fashioned politeness and manners, things that the _Condor_ usually lacked. A part of her had liked the way his squadron was always immaculate in everything, which was completely opposite to the rough-and-ready Storm Hawks.

Sadly, it had all been crushed soon after he first opened his mouth, and was reinforced every time he said anything to them. His insulting nature and the sheer size of his ego negated all of his good points, although it was usually funny when someone had the wits and nerve to stand up to his arrogance.

This was an easier line to walk – she hadn't truly admired _him_ as much as wanted what he had. The shorter time-span involved also helped heal the second scar on her belief. She got over him, too.

The most recent failed hero was Carver. He had remained unnoticed by her until his release from the Stockade, since to her, he'd only been a traitor before that. Ambition and desire on her part had again gotten in the way of her friends, and almost more importantly, the truth – at least for a while. After all, if she'd never gone along with him, the others would have been more reluctant, and it wouldn't have had to result in Aerrow's incarceration. Blinded by the strong, brave and handsome image that he put across, she'd trusted him, believing the face that made almost every woman on Atmosia scream at him. Or so it seemed. He had flattered them, there was no denying it – he would give them advice, or ask for something in a way that made them feel special, and important. He could lay on the compliments so thickly that the difference between sincerity and flattery was impossible to distinguish.

Maybe that had been why she'd refused to suspect him, at least at first, and forget the things that she knew were true, to replace them with the things he said were true. His entire image had been just that – an image. And his ugly side had started to show as soon as he got what he wanted.

Fighting against him had helped her to get over him, and she soon forgot her belief in him.

The only hero she would ever consider to be a proper, decent hero was Starling, and God knew the woman had enough issues of her own. Starling was fearless, and courageous, and had lived through what could be called 'the worst thing ever' – the destruction of her squadron: her family and friends. There were other reasons to admire Starling too, of course; she never seemed to overreact to anything, a trait that Piper was all too aware she had in spades.

But Starling wasn't really one of her heroes, she was more of a comrade – perhaps even a friend, given what they'd been through. Her faults were still obvious, though, and she let Piper down several times: her inability to get emotionally involved hindered anything more than a working relationship. Or it could have been the way she sometimes tossed the navigator aside in favour of receiving help from Aerrow or offering him praise, despite the actual work being done by others. Either way, she didn't always endear herself to the younger girl.

Often, thoughts of her failed heroes were painful: they highlighted all of her own failings, all of her mistakes, and all the times she'd hurt her friends. Every problem and flaw she found in herself, she also found in them, and to her, it seemed like she had all of their negatives and none of the positives – she hated herself for that.

She hated herself more when she realised that they – the Storm Hawks – were heroes too. Did that mean that they were like this? Fickle, weak, and blinded by their own egos, unable to see their failings and merely looking for praise? But they were different, she insisted. They weren't the same as all the others.

_Really? You truly believe that?_ A treacherous corner of her mind spoke up. _But what about that time when Aerrow was in the Exosphere? You were so convinced that your calculations couldn't go wrong that you didn't even consider a mistake to be a possibility until it happened. That sounds pretty much like you were blinded by your own ego. And what about the time you nearly left the Storm Hawks for good? That was pretty fickle, and due to your own selfish desire for praise. So what makes you any better than them? _She couldn't find any answer for her demon.

_Exactly. You're no better than any of your idols, many of whom are no better than the Cyclonians. Therefore, why are you any better than the people you fight?_

Again, she couldn't answer, and the thought suddenly struck her that she was talking – no, arguing – with herself. She was going insane, Piper decided. And although she disliked admitting it, she made some good points. It was only a pity she couldn't fight herself any better.

So what _did_ set them apart? Was it their age? Their innocence? Maybe it was their intentions – they may not always have been right, but were almost always noble and good...

Then again, the road to Hell is paved with good intentions, or so they said...

So she turned back to painful musings on her fallen idols, ignoring the feeling of the old scars being ripped open, though it was less painful than the truth of her nature. Piper remembered the short time they'd spent doing things Carver's way – the times that they'd gone looking for danger and fights for the look of the thing – like fighting the lava worms in the Wastelands. She recalled interviews done with some children at that time. One of them, when asked what he thought about the new Storm Hawks, had said that he thought they were brave.

But bravery didn't mean looking for trouble (as they had been). Heroes were only brave when they had to be, surely, and like everyone, they got scared of some things, too.

This was something many Sky Knights didn't understand: looking for danger wasn't brave or heroic, it was cowardly. Having to prove oneself didn't sound strong to any but the most hard-core of their fans, a misguided, deluded group that had once included her in their ranks, to her shame.

_And that, _she told herself, _is what sets us apart. We only go to trouble when we hear of it. We don't look for it – we don't need it._

It didn't completely satisfy her, but it was a good answer nevertheless. Although even though they didn't _look_ for trouble, they went to it like moths to a flame when they found it.

One day, they would crash and burn, just like her idols had done to her.

And one day, her faith in heroes might be rekindled by the one she never saw.

_What she didn't realise was that all her idols were just facets of what she wanted the most – the only one she could never have. But she stayed oblivious to it as she struggled through the days, bearing a hero's burden._

The Storm Hawks would never be the same as the rest, she decided. Not if she could help it.

**Fin.**

**A/N: Yeah... I'm not sure how this one turned out, so thoughts? I'm fairly certain the characterisation is off, too, and that it gets too repetitive, but I don't know if I'm the best judge of that.**

**Finally, there's a fairly obvious (I think) reference to the Lion King. Good luck spotting it. If you get it right, I'll try and write something for you, because I need help getting over my writer's block.**


End file.
